Critical
by KyrstalKate
Summary: Second part of the Crisis triology. I own nothing but the plot. In the wake of the start of the EVO Outbreak, tensions raise as Providence tries to stop the new threat. Strong T.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am just going to give a couple notes before we dive into Critical. First off, the is the second part of a trilogy. If you haven't ready Crisis, my fic, you, my friend, are going to be very lost. Second, [SPOILER ALERT], this starts the day after the wedding. So prepare for slightly off-character Holiday. And also vulture-ish Six. Third, this is going to be way more horror-oriented than Crisis could ever hope to be. Fourth, I'm going to swear. If you are offended, please leave. Fifth, enjoy the show, folks!**

_"Rebecca, we've been seeing each other for a long time now..."_

Rebecca Holiday-Calan sat in her bedroom, staring at the gold band encircling the fourth finger on her left hand. It was beautiful. Simple, yet perfect. She could hear the people in her house, waiting for her to come out. Waiting for her to be alright.

_"...and I know you are so freaked out with commitment, but, damn, I love you..."_

But Rebecca Calan was not going to be alright. Not until the person who took her light was gone. Probably not even then. Because she loved Dean so much. And in one second, he was taken away from her.

_"...and I'm not expecting you to say yes right away, because I know you can't do that..."_

Dean was most definitely the best thing in her life. When she woke up in the morning, and she saw him, she was always so happy. He made her feel whole. He made her feel right. And he wasn't a bad boy, but he certainly wasn't squeaky clean, either. And damn, he had a personality. He was warm. He was home. And in a second, she became homeless.

_"...I know that when you make a decision, you think about it, and make sure you consider all possibilities..."_

As Rebecca sat on her bed, wearing his t-shirt, she felt nothing and everything all at once. Her head spun. Her heart beat a slow, steady beat, even though her mind begged for it to stop. She felt the ring weigh down her finger like a dumbbell.

_"...and I love that about you. I love everything about you..."_

Rebecca knew what Dean would say to her right now. He would tell her he loved her. And he would tell her he was okay. And he would tell her to remember him fondly. She felt a stray tear flow down her cheek.

_"...And now, I have nothing else to say. Rebecca Ann Holiday, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"_

Rebecca took a deep breath and stood. She selected a black blouse and a black skirt. Nothing else felt right. She tied up her hair into a bun, and applied a small amount of makeup. And taking all of the strength she had, she walked out of her bedroom into a hell she wasn't sure she could brave without Dean Calan.

The Mann stared at the sunrise, thinking about how ironic it was that Dean Calan was dead. On his wedding day. The best kind of justice was poetic, and Mann relished it. He heard Naligra hissed and he knew he wasn't alone.

"Circe," he called out. "Come to kill me?"

"No, I'd rather not deal with that nasty snake of yours," Mann turned around to see Circe, wearing her old suit. Well, that was surprising.

"Circe, I do love the outfit, it suits you," Mann began slowly moving towards her, pleased with the fit. "So, tell me love, why have you come to me?"

"I want info on Dean Calan's killer. I assumed you'd have it," Circe said, aware of how close he was getting.

"Information...ah, Circe, that's expensive, and I'm afraid you'd be wasting your resources. I know nothing of his death," Mann said, his hot breath on her skin.

"Nothing? Not even a little hint?" Circe looked at him right in the eyes, and for the first time, wasn't afraid of the reptilian man.

"Come back in a day. I'll decide my price when you have what you're looking for," Mann hissed. "Oh, and Circe? There is no reason for the Boss to know of our transaction, agreed?"

"Agreed,"

**A/N: Hello darlings! I'll try to post every Saturday night (it will be late, so just check Sunday around noon). I really hope you all will enjoy this story. It is significantly darker than it's predecessor. More gore, more psychological horror, more angst, and mourning Holiday-Calan. Also, Circe is not trustable. Anyway, I hope you all had happy holidays and I wish you all a glorious new year!**

**Love Always,**

**Kate**


	2. Chapter 2

Agent Six sat on the couch of the Holiday-Calan home, feeling just as awkward as he did when he attended the dinner party. It had been two days since Dean Calan was shot, and he hadn't seen his widow since he carried her to the house. Of course, poor Beverly had tried to tear Holiday from Calan's corpse, but she wasn't nearly strong enough. It had to have been Agent Six, the stoic mercenary with no emotion. But everything was different when it came to Rebecca Holiday. Well, Holiday-Calan now.

Agent Six stood and walked to the kitchen, fixing himself a glass of ice water. He sat back down, keeping watch on that quiet house. Beverly was sleeping in the guest room. Rex was home, and he assumed that Circe was with Rex. He was the only one awake, even though it was precisely 7:32 in the morning.

Six heard noise from the hall, and looked up to see poor Rebecca standing there. Her hair was still in the braid Beverly had put it in, and she was still in the pajamas she had shrugged on in her daze.

"Rebecca," Six greeted, standing. "How are you?"

"My husband is dead," Holiday answered, her voice bereft or emotion.

"I'm so sorry, Rebecca," Six's voice was quiet. He didn't know what else to say.

They sat there, in their hopeless silence, and Rebecca wondered how she could end this pain in her heart. She briefly wondered how much hard liquor she had in her cabinet, but that thought was quickly pushed out of her mind by the flash of the sight of her newly widowed mother back when Holiday was 14. Holiday almost laughed. When her father was stabbed in a mugging gone wrong, she had pitied her mother, and to this day, Holiday believed her mother hated her for it. Rebecca had never understood why her mother didn't want people to feel sorry for her. But now, as she had been left in the wake of death's destruction, all Rebecca wanted was to escape the pain and the pity that others rained upon her.

"Becca, you're awake?" came Beverly's voice from the hallway. "Why didn't you come get me?"

"I thought you had gone home," Rebecca said softly, standing and hugging her sister.

"No! Of course not! You need family right now," Beverly said, pulling back to brush a strand of black hair out of Holiday's face.

"You need to go home," Holiday smiled sadly, doing the same for her younger sister.

"I can't do that Becca," Beverly was firm.

"You'll hate me if you stay," Holiday cupped her sister's face with her hand. "I've already lost my light. I can't lose my family, too,"

Six sat as he realized Holiday's "light" was Calan, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He wanted to be her light, but he knew somehow that he had missed his chance.

"Go home, Beverly," Holiday turned to Six. "You too, Six. You two have been amazing, but I need to be on my own,"

Beverly sighed, realizing she had lost the battle. She quietly packed, and left with a quick hug to her sister.

"You're still here," Holiday said dryly after she closed her front door.

Six stood, standing very close to the widowed doctor, "Are you sure you want me to leave?"

"I want you to stay, but I need you to go," Holiday turned, and pointed to the door, and Six left.

No one heard from Holiday for a week. She took two weeks off of work, which White Knight had understood. Everyone had understood. That didn't mean every single member of Providence didn't worry about Holiday every second of the day. Those with gods prayed for her. Those without tried to understand what she was going through. The whole base wore black armbands around their left arms, a silent grievance for the beloved captain, and a soundless movement for his widow. When the agents received the invitations to the funeral, every single one came.

Holiday was stoic and put together. She wore all black, just as one would expect. But she never cried. Not as the preacher gave his sermon, not as the captain's men handed her his flag, not even when she threw the rose on top of his casket lying six feet under the ground. She stood alone, not even allowing Beverly to stand with her. No one questioned her. No one said any words of doubt.

And even a blind man could see that even though Holiday was bereft of her light, she still left the cemetery with dignity.

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to update, I had my Winter Ball last light and I was grounded the week before because I am slightly irresponsible. Anyway, next week's chapter is not going to be a particularly pleasant read. So prepare yourself. And it might end up getting posted Sunday because I have speech every Saturday until March. So, that's fun! **

**Love Always,  
>Kate<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this has taken so long, we had a bit of a scare with some health issues I've been dealing with, but I'm back on track and finally got my laptop back, so it should get back to weekly updates. Anywho, there will be more info below. Enjoy!**

Circe sat in the apartment she shared with Rex, relishing her last moments there. She knew that she had to disappear for awhile, especially if what Mann had said was true. She wasn't scared, at least, not for herself. She was worried about Rex, and about Dr. anyone was in incredible danger, it was the new widow.

Circe had always joked she had been terrible at choosing sides. It was true with the Event, and it would be true with the newest crisis. Circe knew that the Boss was going to lose, but she also knew that he could protect her in ways Providence couldn't. And Mann made promises that Rex couldn't keep. Even though she loved him, she didn't trust him. Maybe that meant it wasn't love.

Circe looked up at the clock. 11:45 PM. Mann would be there soon. Circe sighed and collected her things, putting them in a black duffle back, and winced that there wasn't much there. She slowly walked into the kitchen and wrote him a note. She wouldn't leave without goodbye this time.

[][][]

Rebecca Holiday stood outside of the Providence doors, staring. She wondered briefly if she could make it inside.

BANG

Holiday jumped back, drawing her gun and looking around wildly. Realizing there was nothing there, she sighed and tucked the weapon back into the holster on her waist that was hidden by her suit jacket. Just as one might expect, she wore all black. But, unlike normal, she wore the jacket holster that she despised. In fact, she despised guns of all kinds. At least, she used to.

Holiday walked in, head high, and made her way to her lab. She clocked in, making sure that White Knight was alerted that she was back at work. She began going through her notes, falling back into the comforts of science and facts.

"Dr. Holiday?" came a small, surprised voice from the door. Holiday looked up to see Amelia, wearing a lab coat and black trousers. Her blonde hair had been cut short, and she looked tired.

"Amelia," Holiday welcomed with a small smile. The young girl looked worried and anxious, and it was good to see her again.

Amelia crossed the lab quickly and gave Holiday a hug, squeezing her tight, and didn't even question it when she felt the gun rub against her rib.

"It's good to have you back, Dr. Holiday," Amelia smiled. "Are you ready?"

"I have to be," Holiday replied, her tone somber.

"I've made notes on the virus. It seems to be replicating at an amazing pace, almost like cancer. And new organisms are being formed, it's almost like they're reproducing asexually," Amelia said, pulling out her observations, handing them to the widow.

"This is good work, Amelia," Holiday smiled. "Have you tried any experiments?"

"Actually, I've been waiting on you. I want to infect a small, dead animal with the virus and see what happens, but White Knight wanted you to be here to conduct the experiment," Amelia explained.

Holiday looked over the notes once more, "I think that's the thing to do,"

[][][]

Six stared into the white room with a blank expression as he watched Dr. Holiday-Calan begin to perform possibly the most dangerous experiment ever done. He didn't approve of infecting a dead dog with the virus, but he had no say in the matter. Holiday was in a full protection suit, with layers of thick Kelver between her and the virus, but they didn't know the extent of the strength the virus gave it's host.

Six held his breath as he watched Holiday slowly insert the syringe and empty the contents. She seemed almost serene as she removed the needle and back away slowly. She stood and observed the dog as he observed her. Her demeanor was stiff and cold, not at all the Holiday Six was used to. He supposed he didn't expect her to be the same after the wedding, but he had to idea she'd be so different.

Six waited for her to exit, but she didn't. Not even as the dog began violently convulsing, or as it's rotting flesh began binding itself back together. The dog began to foam at abrasions in the skin, and an unearthly growl arose from it's breasts.

Then, it went limp. Holiday quietly turned to make her leave, when the dog slowly began dragging itself up. The door had only just closed behind her as it threw itself at her.

A/N: Short story: I suck. I was going to post, and then I had a bit of an episode and had to go back to the hospital, complained about it, and then got grounded. This chapter has been in the works for literally a month. I am so sorry I didn't update sooner, and hopefully things will go back to normal soon. It is a priority, I promise!


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